


vision of love

by anonymous_mystery95



Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: (Ish) - Freeform, Canon Compliant, F/M, josiepea, post S2/ pre S3 fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 14:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16577987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_mystery95/pseuds/anonymous_mystery95
Summary: They have a three month expiration date, three glorious months together before it must end. She had set the terms and he had agreed...He just never thought he'd fall in love in that time.She didn't think she would either.





	vision of love

He doesn’t expect to fall for her, for Josie. It starts off as a quick fling, Toni inviting the lonely girl to her birthday party at the Whyte Wyrm. Everyone had looked the other way when the teenagers drank, a tipsy Josie a flirty one. And he didn’t discourage her from it, Sweet Pea enjoying the attention, the flattery. They share their first kiss there, the pair of them drunk and emboldened, Josie gripping the loose material of his shirt and tugging him down to her.  It’s messy and sloppy, but they don’t care, enjoying themselves far too much. She tastes like strawberries and gin, he tastes like a bad mistake. She wants more.

It takes an amused Toni to separate the pair, inviting Josie to the centre, begging for a dancing partner. She lights up at the idea and follows willingly, only stopping when she feels a heavy hand on her shoulder. It is Sweet Pea, the boy dropping it to her hips, tugging her close. He whispers something in her ear, something forgotten by sobriety, and when he leans up he has her phone in his hand. The smug smirk on his face is enough to have Toni rolling her eyes and tapping her foot as the pair eyed each other. He taps something onto it and slips it back into Josie’s back pocket. “Call me if you ever want an encore.”

And then he winks,

and he walks away.

* * *

Drunk Sweet Pea thought he was suave.

Sober Sweet Pea thought he was an idiot.

Sober Sweet Pea also didn’t think she’d take him up on the offer, so really, which was the idiot?

* * *

 

It continues… longer than he thought it would.

The first time was right after an argument with her mother – she had been upfront about that, she had excess adrenaline and needed an outlet. He was cute, he was available. And if he wasn’t up for it she’d just call her ex.

He had been her go-to ever since.

It isn’t only just make-out sessions, and he was okay with it. It had started like that, Josie texting him day and night, Sweet Pea meeting her at the drop of a hat if she ever needed it. It was great, Josie was eager and responsive and he finds himself quickly addicted the way she felt underneath his fingertips, the sounds he could elicit, her throaty groans and quiet whimpers. She was hot and incredible and he wasn’t tired of her, not in the slightest.

But it does change, slowly but surely.  It starts with a phone call that never ended with a proposition, just Josie calling to rant about her mother, her step-father, the world. He listens and muttering of encouragement are interspersed through her conversation, Sweet Pea waving off Fangs to listen more carefully to her. He is ribbed about it for days after, by all the teenage Serpents, but he doesn’t care, not when she ends the conversation with a soft thank you and a smile he can hear through the wiring. The next time it is about a song she can’t master or understand and she’s absolutely furious with something that has nothing to do with the song. But he listens patiently, takes her hand, squeezes it in encouragement. Together they work through the bumps, Josie singing and Sweet Pea nodding at everything she did, each another version of perfection to offer him. She eventually finds the right lyrics, the right runs. There is a kiss in celebration, Josie throwing her arms around his neck, Sweet Pea leaning down easily, smiling against her mouth, Josie laughing as he swung her around. But it remains chaste and soft, and he doesn’t find himself disappointed by it, not when he spent hours with her, listening to her sing, not when he got to see her smile, got to hear her laugh.

He could never be disappointed with that.

Sweet Pea rides her out to Sweetwater River one time when harsh words turned into soft touches, when neither were enough to completely burn the adrenaline in her veins. He convinces her to join him in the water, convinces her to let go of her worries just for a few hours, the pair splashing around in the river, cooling themselves down. And her smile when she loses herself, the carefree smile that lights up the sky enough to stop his heart. Because all the smiles of before couldn’t complete with the pure, unadulterated joy on her face in that moment. He couldn’t help but kiss her in that moment, lips muffling the laughter leaving her mouth, couldn’t help but continue when she sighs and leans into his embrace, sleek arms around his shoulders. It is different from earlier that day, softer, more caring, more delicate. There is no anger in its undercurrent, only something that Sweet Pea can’t exactly pin, can only know that he wants more, and from Josie. She breaks it by splashing him, running away as he chases her, empty threats on his tongue when he wades in the water, chasing her. He does catch her, arms around her waist, pulling her back tight against his bare chest. Josie kicks around, trying to escape. She doesn’t and he dunks her under the water, chasing her underwater to steal a kiss, Josie giving in easily, her arms around his neck, legs around his waist.

They are young and carefree.

It is the summer of a lifetime.

(It would have to be, that was all the time they had).

He teaches her to ride his motorbike, Sweet Pea getting a second hand helmet and presenting it to her one afternoon after a horrible argument with her mother, a crude paint job giving it her signature colour scheme. But she beams at the sight of it, takes it eagerly from his hands and puts it on, ready to learn. There is a lightness in his chest when he sees her excitement, a fluttering when she slips on his leather jacket, far too big for her petite frame, over her shoulders, drowning in it. But she swings her legs over the motorbike, taking in his instructions, and in a few weeks she is a proficient rider. She had been so proud of herself when she had succeeded, turning the motorbike off and launching herself into Sweet Pea’s arms. He had caught her, swung her around. She grins in pride, her smile spreading when he compliments her. And soon they were meeting, not because of others, but for themselves, because they enjoyed the other’s company, because when they were with the other they felt comfortable and safe.

* * *

He texts her once, blinded by rage at Toni’s uncle, shaking hands typing the message. Not as shaky as Toni when she had appeared by his doorstep late that night. He didn’t think Josie would respond, didn’t think she’d agree. But she does and he tucks a sleeping Toni, small and curled up in on herself, into his small bed, covers her frame with his thin blanket. And he slips out of the house.

Josie is waiting at the corner of her street, looking out for him, and he’d be annoyed that she was alone at night if it wasn’t for the overwhelming relief that floods him at the sight of her. She slips on the helmet and they drive off, Sweet Pea pulling into the Sweet Water River carpark. They don’t jump in the water, though the stifling humidity would be justification enough, instead they sit together on her thick, checked picnic blanket, sides pressed against each other on the bank, watching the water lap against the edge, the moonlight glittering like diamonds on the water’s surface.

He confesses that there are times where he feels useless, that he can’t protect those people he loves, and it angers him, at those who hurt him, at himself. Especially at himself. 

It comes from Sweet Pea unprompted, and her hug was the same. He crumples into her and she can feet the hot tears soaking into her shirt. He clutches at her tightly and she melts into him, a soothing hand rubbing his back. They stay together well into the morning, the pair accidentally falling asleep. He wakes up at dawn, a look of awe on his face when he sees her there, lying next to him, Josie curled into his side. He is almost scared to touch her, scared that he would awaken her, that this moment would disappear. But Sweet Pea can’t resist himself forever, hand brushing against her cheek, lightly skimming over her skin. She stirs and blinks sleepily, the touch enough to disturb her rest. And Josie looks up at him, a lazy smile on her lips before she closes her eyes and, pulling closer to him, she falls back asleep. It surprises him, and he pinches himself.

He’s awake.

It really happened.

And he closes his eyes, a smile on his face as he tucks his hand behind his head, and he falls right back asleep.

It is the tipping point in their relationship, Sweet Pea and Josie falling off the precipice and into the chasm before them.

Sometimes she asks about his life, questions prodding to know more about him. It is weird at first, Sweet Pea so used to shutting him emotions inside him, sharing them with only Fangs or Toni. But he finds he wants to tell her these things, at first so she can understand what life in the Southside is like, so she could understand the struggles they faced. But his motivation shifts, as does the intimacy of her questions. They become more personal and he becomes more open, because he wants her to know about his life, because he doesn’t want to hide anything from her. And Josie listens, soaks in every word. She holds him and he trusts her.

* * *

He should have known then that he was in far too deep.

* * *

The Whyte Wyrm is holding another celebration, for what Sweet Pea can’t exactly remember. But then, it doesn’t really matter.

Josie comes as his date, a stunning little red dress that has him speechless and unable to keep his eyes or hands off of her. And it fills him with pride the way she talks to all of them, an easy smile on her lips as the Serpents accepted her, talked to her, befriended her.

He heads to the bar, tries to convince Hogeye to slip something alcoholic into their drinks, and ignore the caution FP had given after Josie’s birthday. He isn’t succeeding and that’s where Josie finds him, still leaning over the bar, hushed whispers to the bartender even as he rolls his eyes. She manages to convince him in less than a minute, the older man holding a soft spot for her, Josie the girl with a voice like an angel and a willingness to gift him with songs of his childhood.

“Just the one,” Hogeye grumbles, sliding the cups over to them. “Just don’t think I’ll do it again. We have a licence to think about.” Sweet Pea grins at him, Josie taking her drink, smiling into her cup as the pair continue to talk, Sweet Pea trying to convince the other guy to give him a job behind the bar. It gets him a chuckle from Hogeye, the older man shaking his head and grinning. “Y’think I can trust you with the alcohol? Anyway, summer’s almost over, you’ll be too busy studying.”

It is said so casually, but it has her stiffening beside him. And it hurts, the memory of their agreement before their first intentional hook-up. There was a three-month expiration date on their relationship and he could see the edge on the horizon. Suddenly Sweet Pea was wishing for something a lot stronger than just a beer.

Hogeye moves on to another customer, leaving the pair to stew in their emotions. And while Sweet Pea holds himself back, even as the itch to hold her and never let go settles beneath his skin, Josie has no such qualms. Or at least, he likes to believe that, likes to believe that she touches him more after Hogeye makes the comment, that she stays close by his side when she would normally start dancing with Toni, that she kisses him more, that she is more affectionate. He likes to believe that she is feeling similarly affected by the memory that this would all be ending in less than a fortnight.

He knows that he must be making it up, that it is his way of compensating for his own feelings, that he is only pretending – hoping – that she feels the same.

But she couldn’t.

Her displays of affection is enough to have him caving to his feelings, Sweet Pea running his hands up and down her bare arms, pulling her back against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. He presses light kisses against her temple, her fingertips, her lips, wherever he could. Because somewhere between deciding to slowly break his addiction to her and that moment less than half an hour later, he realises that he should instead enjoy every waking moment with her that he could. Especially when she was doing the same.

They aren’t there for long.

It is Josie who takes his hand, Josie who tugs him out of the building, ignoring the whistles and cat-calls from Toni and Fangs. They miss the amused expressions on the pairs face, miss the way Fangs slides Toni a tenner, Sweet Pea and Josie so caught up in each other. And the moment they are out of the building, too far away to be distracted by other patrons stumbling in or out, it is then he stops and pulls her closer, Sweet Pea kissing her as he had imagined doing for the past two hours, a receptive Josie melting against him, encouraging moans against his lips as he deepens the kiss, as he holds her tighter, as he doesn’t let go. They eventually pull away, gulping for air. And it is between these panting breaths that she catches his eye, that she asks him which of the trailers was his. The air is thick in the seconds between her question and his answer, Sweet Pea losing his voice, losing all thought. All that stays is a vision of her naked and smiling and in his bed. His tongue is heavy, and he stumbles over his words, the heat in her gaze short-circuiting his brain.

He’d always been a man of action and not words anyhow.

Sweet Pea takes her hand, tugs her in the right direction, mindful of her shoes and the speed they were walking, his eagerness restrained. They stop intermittently on the walk to the trailer, Sweet Pea unable to keep his hands and lips off of her, stopping to sweep her inter a kiss. It doesn’t take long for him to sweep her into his arms instead, a cheesy line about how her feet must hurt from running around his mind all day in those heels, thrown out, barely heard above her shriek of surprise and subsequent laughter. Josie settles in his arms, using the free seconds to take him in, the freckles dusted over his nose, the lock of hair that rebelliously refused to stay with the others, instead falling in front of his face. She had always thought him handsome, would have to be blind in order for her not to, but now, here, he was beautiful.

Her heart leaps in her chest as he turns his head to her and smiles.

She does eventually get her revenge, the smug grin on Sweet Pea’s face alerting her to the fact she had indeed been caught watching him. It is cruel, Josie leaning forward in his arms, taking advantage of the bare slope of his neck, licking and sucking up and down his neck, scraping her teeth over the serpent tattoo he was so proud of. She finds the sensitive spot behind his ear, traces the shell of it with her tongue. And it is a miracle that he manages to remain moving, to remain standing, as she teases him. He does stop one time, turning his face to catch her lips in a heated kiss, but she dodges it, leaning back as he leans into her, tutting him softly. He pouts and she hums in laughter, leaning into him, only ghosting his lips before pulling away quickly.

He learns his lesson very fast, rushing to the trailer, reluctantly dropping her legs to the ground so that he could unlock the door. They enter the trailer quickly, Josie not given any time to look around, dragged into Sweet Pea’s room and then pressed against his door. She doesn’t deny him this kiss, the pent up emotion from her teasing expressed in the most pleasant of ways. He gasps her name against her mouth, rough and raspy and she feels it deep inside her, a warmth flaring up deep in her at the sound of it, the heat only stoked by his gentle hands and harsh kisses. And he kisses everything he can, teeth scraping across her jawline, nipping at her neck, tongue soothing the sting. Josie’s head bangs against the door behind her, the girl perfectly content with him taking charge for the moment, Josie tilting her head to the side to give him better access.

Sweet Pea was vocal she had learnt quickly, not necessarily loud, but very vocal. And she loves it, loves hearing him growl in her ears just how sexy she looked, how he struggled keeping his hands off her all night, how all he could imagine was this. It is interspersed with swearing because, _god, how could she be so perfect and here with him? How is that possible?_

Josie stifles herself, and he asks, pleads, with her not to, for her to let him hear her, just this once, telling her that those sexy little noises were incredible, but he wanted her unrestrained and free and just once Josie, let him here her just this once.

His mother isn’t home, wouldn’t do so, not if there was an event at the Whyte Worm. She had told him as much already.

They would be alone.

There is something freeing about that knowledge, the fact that she could be as loud as she pleased without anyone overhearing them.

So she grants him his wish, Josie making a conscious decision to not hold it inside. And the lust in thick in her voice as she mewls at his hands on her skin, the edge of her dress lifting as Sweet Pea raises his palms, pressing them against her inner thigh. She can feel the calloused skin of his hand and fingers, is keenly aware of how they were rubbing against her. How she wanted them higher. The words escape her, her hands finding his, almost forcing them to where she needed it. But he resists her, a dark chuckle in her ears as he keeps them a torturous distance away, hand remaining mid thigh, not lifting any higher. “Sweet Pea,” she moans through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut as she is assaulted by a barrage of sensations, both overwhelming and simply not enough. “Damn it Sweet Pea,” she snaps. “Stop teasing me like this.” She attempts to glare at him, but it fails miserably, Josie biting her lip as his hand slips just that bit higher in retaliation.

“What do you want Jos?” And she’s going to kill him, the smug jerk. But after.

“I want –“ Her breath catches, his hands sliding higher just as she started speaking, her nerves so sensitive it has her choking on the words. But then he stops again, nipping at her pulse point, encouraging her to continue. But it’s difficult to form words, not when his fingers are tracing intricate patterns in her inner thigh, his mouth doing the most delectable things to her neck, the months used to study her weaknesses, and how he exploits them. “You. I want you Sweet Pea.” He hums against her neck, nose pressed against the skin behind her ear, smiling as she tugs at his hair, not hesitating for a moment before dragging his lips against hers, sighing at the temporary feeling of satisfaction it gave her. “ _Relief_.” The words are torn from her lungs, forced from her mouth and into his own, the word flashing in her mind. “I want relief.”

And suddenly she finds his thigh wedged between her legs. It is delicious, the friction that his jeans provide her, Josie grinding herself against it, a relieved groan escaping her lips at the sensation. But it doesn’t soothe her, only enflames her more, Josie dropping her hands and adjusting her grip on his shoulders, using him as an anchor to rub herself against him more easily.

He breaks the kiss, Josie unaware of the way he watches her, heart in his throat as he takes in the goddess, with swollen lips and an open mouth, grip tight on him, clinging as she sought relief. It is a sight to behold and he can’t find the strength to tear his gaze away, his pants increasingly uncomfortable.

It drives him crazy, Sweet Pea lifting her legs, urging her to wrap them around his waist. And she does so, Josie almost crying in relief at the new contact pressed against her centre, a hiss leaving his mouth at the pressure against his erection through his clothing.  “Sweet Pea.” And god, the sound of her voice in his ears, pleading for more, for him, tone thick and throaty and wanton. It’s enough to break a stronger man. “Sweet Pea _please_.” He had broken long ago. “I need you.” His hand stops.

“Are- are you sure?” There is a hesitation, a disbelief in his voice. Because as much as he teased her, as much as he pushed boundaries, she had always rejected the idea and he respected it.

Josie doesn’t respond, not with words. She slips her legs down from his waist, hands on his chest holding him back as she unzips her dress and lets it fall the ground. It leaves him speechless, the sight of her in matching lingerie, and she takes advantage of his silence, sidling back towards him, hips swaying as she takes her time, Josie leaning into his body. “I’m sure.”

It’s the moment the switch flicks inside him, Sweet Pea waking up to reality. “You dressed up for me babe?” If he aims for cocky he misses it, a strangled groan leaving his lips as he fully appreciates the plunge in her bra, the skin that was now revealed to him.

A throaty hum leaves her in affirmation, Josie unbuttoning his shirt, stopping at the bottom to look at him through her lashes. “Some help please.” He drops the shirt to the floor, his hands finding her waist as he guides her backwards, a smile on Josie’s face as she sways her hips in response. The bed is hard behind her knees and she falls down easily, sitting on it. The height difference is fierce, Josie craning her neck to look him in the eye. It doesn’t last long, Sweet Pea dropping to his knees. He bows down before her, worships her the way she deserves, the way he had dreamed of for months. And Josie is okay with relinquishing power, especially if he treats her like this.

It is Josie who leans down to kiss him, her hand cradling the back of his head, holding him to her as she set the pace of the kiss. He doesn’t complain, not when their tongues tangle, when he can hear her throaty groans, when her blunt nails digging into his neck, when her thighs tighten around his torso, holding him close. His hands find the buckle of her bra, tugging the lace off her body. And the kiss breaks, just enough for him to look, Sweet Pea drinking her in. She rolls her eyes at his actions, even as she feels her lips pull into a smile in pride at the reaction. The following kiss is more heated, Josie dragging a strangled groan from his lungs when she takes his hand in her own, placing it on her chest, squeezing her breast over his hand. He picks up her needs quickly, Sweet Pea taking control, tugging and rolling her nipples until they were stiff peaks, until they were aching for more, until she was aching for more. And he knows it, the smug bastard, smirking against her mouth as she mewls, Josie pressing herself against his hand for more, nails digging into his skin, dragging down his back in frustration.

Sweet Pea peppers kisses down the slope of her neck, stopping to suck against her pulse point, a weakness he learnt quickly and exploited often.  There is an exhale of relief from her mouth as his journeys further south, Sweet Pea taking his sweet time in exploring more of her skin. He crosses her collarbone, before capturing a nipple in his mouth. He sucks and teases with his mouth and tongue and she a writhing mess, a desperation leaking into her tone as she cries his name as she asks for what he is more than willing to give her. He is unsure, torn between taking his time in exploring every inch of her skin and giving in to her wants and his, to touch her, to slip into her, to take her like he desires.

He’s weak, hands slipping to her hips, thumbs rubbing circles against her skin, index fingers hooking into her panties. She stills against him. “Are you okay?” There is lust swirling in his voice, but she can hear his concern, the worry that he had pushed her too far, too quickly. She nods, almost shyly, hips arching off his  bed as Sweet Pea tugs them down her legs, losing them somewhere on the ground. She shudders as his warm exhale brushes against her centre, falls against the bed as anticipation thrums in her veins, Josie waiting for his touch. But he doesn’t.

Sweet Pea doesn’t move, takes too long and she lifts her to rest on her elbows. And it is electric, the way he looks at her, Sweet Pea frozen between her legs, eyes black and unblinking, focussed on her, only her. And she, Josie McCoy, can’t find her voice, the words dying on her tongue at the sight before. He does, voice guttural as he tells her everything he’s feeling, of the awe at just how wet she is – and for him, _because_ of him.

And finally, _finally_ , he moves.

She melts at his touch, elbows giving way at the first swipe of his fingers down her slit, the energy seeping out of her bones at the contact. He seems hesitant and unsure, Sweet Pea learning what would make her gasp, what would make her mewl. What would make her scream. But it is when he lowers his mouth to her core that her back arches from the bed, his name torn from her lips, echoing off his walls. It takes her by surprise, the feeling of his lips and tongue, sucking and probing, fingers slipping into her entrance, curling inside her. It’s incredible, it’s indescribable and she doesn’t want it to end, wants to stay here with him, in his bed, his attention lavished on her, forever.

But then he moves a leg over his shoulder, uses his fingers and tongues and she forgets everything but his name and her need for him to continue.

His bedsheets are an anchor, Josie clutching them in her fists, squeezing tight as he continued to lick. One hand loosens to drop to his head, fingers weaving between his silky locks, tightening around them instead. She offers guidance, demands obedience, with her mouth and hands, Josie urging him closer, pleading for him to move faster, to touch her more, to _oh god, I’m close Sweet Pea, please –_

She shatters with no one to hold her, back arching from his mattress into the coolness of the night air, his name a mantra on her tongue as waves of pleasure crash through her, each nerve throughout her body. Awareness comes to her slowly, Josie bringing herself to rest on her elbows, and Sweet Pea is watching her with dark eyes, chin shining. She can see the lust swirling in his gaze, can see his hunger for her. It sends a shiver down her spine and a spike of need through her. “Sweet Pea.” It comes out needy and rough, and his restraint snaps, the man getting up from his knees. She crawls back on the bed as he moves over her, Sweet Pea losing the rest of his clothing quickly. There is a moment where he hovers over her, where he pauses, eyes tracing over her body, mouth open slightly as he takes it all in. It fills her with warmth, tendrils of it curling though her body, its entirety thrumming in anticipation, each second dragging into eternity. Need pulsates through her, an agonising wait dragging on for longer than it needs to, not when she didn’t think she could breathe without his skin touching hers.

Josie snaps first, her arms winding themselves around his neck, tugging him down. He melts against her, the moment their lips touch, Sweet Pea kissing her like he had dreamt of, naked bodies pressed firmly against each other. Josie can taste herself on his tongue, can feel the liquid smearing on her face. And she breaks the kiss, tongue licking across his chin and around his mouth. It elicits a growl, Sweet Pea’s grip on her waist tightening in response. He lets go, hand cupping the side of her face, bringing her back to his mouth, his tongue sweeping into her open mouth. And he swallows her groans and whimpers, Sweet Pea manoeuvring his knee between hers. And her legs fall open at the slightest pressure, hips bucking into his, the pair hissing as she brushes against his erection. But her hand finds it, guides it to her entrance, Josie nodding as he meets her gaze, the pair on the edge.

He slips in slowly, her breath hitching at the sensation. It is difficult for Josie to keep her eyes open, and she doesn’t even try, mind on him, hands reaching up to slide around his neck and down his back, the red marks she leaves behind on his skin the only evidence of a night they both would never forget. She (wraps her legs around his waist, heels urging him faster, harder, sweet pea following her advice. and she can feel the build up of pleasure behind the wall, knows that it’ll sweep her away when it breaks and washes over her. she’s so close, can feel it, her hips moving up to meet his, desperate for that release. And he isn’t that much far behind.

She’s warm and tight and god, the noises leaving her mouth as he thrusts into her… he can barely breathe. His fingers slip down between her legs, circling her clit, Sweet Pea determined to have her come before him.

“Come on babe, do it for me.” It is rough and guttural, the sound was enough to nudge her off the edge. She arches into him, biting the muscles in his neck as a way to muffle her cries, Josie trembling as she does so in his arms. It washes over her in waves, his thumb still rubbing circles against her, his thrusting becoming more erratic. And she can feel him tense moments later, Sweet Pea stiffening and then collapsing on top of her. He lifts himself up a minute later, sweat rolling down his nose, plastering his hair against his forehead. And she can’t help but lean up and kiss him, licking into his mouth, sighing as he leaned back into her, mouth moving against her. Reluctantly he pulls away, Josie whimpering at the separation, chasing his mouth. But he pulls away, slipping into the bathroom to clean himself off, a damp rag with him for her. The air is thick as he wipes between her thighs, Sweet Pea intently doing it, Josie unable to look away from the utter concentration on his face. He is tender in his movements, delicate in the way he touched her. She sucks in a sharp inhale – it feels more intimate than anything that night. Eventually he returns to the bed, Josie shuffling to one side, a gentle smile on her face as he sits down at the edge of his bed for a minute before lying beside her.

She nuzzles into him, a content sigh leaving her lips. Josie doesn’t make any move to leave his room, his bed. His arms. Which is good, because he doesn’t know how he’d handle it if she slipped out with a bright smile and words of gratitude on her lips. His hold on her tightens at the thought of it, Sweet Pea reminding himself that she was still here, that she did, in some way, like him.

But then Josie shuffles in the bed, a grunt of discomfort as she splayed herself over more of his body. She tries adjusting herself, a huff of frustration she probably doesn’t realise left her lips. But he does.

It was the first time Sweet Pea had felt inadequate in their relationship, and over a bed of all things. The girls from the Southside all knew the situation he was in, they were in the same. But Josie, Josie who lives in the Northside, who could afford new clothes when the whim struck her. Josie who likely had a larger bed, a more comfortable mattress, Josie who wasn’t use to his life.

“I’m sorry.” It is a quiet whisper, almost absentminded in the way it sounds. But it is more than that, so much more. She can tell by the way he tries to hide it, can tell by the way he thrums his fingers on the small of her back, the constant motion relaxing, urging her to sleep. But she can’t, not yet. She hums against his neck, urging him on, his fingers stuttering in their drumming at the sensation. She hides the smile against his bare skin. “For…” Sweet Pea sighs, waving a hand around his room.

And she knows what he means.

It is with great reluctance she pulls herself up, an arm on each side of his head as she hovers over him. “You know I don’t care about that.” She thinks that any other guy would look away, embarrassed of what they had just confessed, of the insecurities they had displayed. Or they’d change the topic, avoid it with jokes or touches or a staunch determination to pretend it had never happened. Not Sweet Pea, not him.

He meets her gaze, unwavering. And the look in it has her mind blanking, so distracted, so captivated by the way that he watched her. She wants to reach out to him, wants to trace his face with her fingers, wants him to view himself as precious as she did, wants him to see it in the way she touches him, kisses him, turns to him. She wants him to know and understand that she loves the way he looks at her, that she wants to bottle up the emotion in his gaze so that she could keep it with her whenever he wasn’t around.

“You don’t need to lie to me.” He sounds broken, so resigned to a fact that was a falsehood. She hates it.

It should surprise her how ardently she wants to see the truth.

It doesn’t.

“Sweet Pea – my dad is a world famous musician, my mum is a licenced attorney. They couldn’t be in the same room for longer than a day without fighting, she _cheated_.” She means to hiss out the words, but she barely manages to choke it out, her throat constricted, eyes burning. “So trust me when I say that the room, or the size of the bed, or whatever you’re thinking about – none of that matters.” A weak smile flickers across her expression. She doesn’t realise she’s crying, not until his hand reaches up, his thumb brushing underneath her eye. She leans into the support, a kiss pressed on the inside of his wrist. “You matter Sweet Pea.” And her heart pounds in her chest, not because of what had just occurred, but for another reason entirely. Her tongue is heavy in her mouth and she isn’t sure why.

She thinks that her heart has made a discovery her mind refuses to acknowledge, not now, not when there are memories, happy memories of her parents together and in love and tortuous one’s where the words are used as a weapon intended to wound.

“I‘m in love with you Jos.”

It takes her by surprise, the confession spoken aloud. But it made perfect sense, “What?”

“I know we agreed it was a summer fling, that we wouldn’t get attached, but –“ he shrugs, unable to find the right words. He doesn’t need to. “Thought you should know.”

She leans down, brushing a kiss against his lips once, twice. On the third time his hand slides over the side of her neck, holding her down as he leans up, capturing her lips in a more heated kiss. And against him, she relaxes, her body leaning into him. And call her cheesy, call her a cliché, but it feels different, kissing him after the confession, knowing how he felt, the emotions he harboured for her. There is a fluttery feeling that was foreign and new, Josie feeling like she weighed nothing at all.

He shifts, Sweet Pea sitting up, leaning against the wall at the head of his bed, Josie straddling him. It had interrupted their kiss, even though she tried to fight it, the adjustments meaning their mouths had disconnected, meaning her attempts resulted in noses pressing against each other’s cheeks, resulted in giggles and muffled laughter against lips. But they settle down, her hands winding themselves over his shoulders, one curling into his hair, the other pressing against his back. She scoots closer to him, bare thighs pressing against his hips, tightening as his lips drop down her neck, across her collarbone. It has her clutching at his head, holding him to her. And she sees it, the reverent way he touches, he kisses. He loves.

Desperation is in the undercurrent of their kiss, Josie needing to show him everything she couldn’t say.

“Alright Jos. We gotta stop.”

She nips lightly at his ear, grinning at the way his grip on her hips tighten, Sweet Pea dragging her closer. “Why?” His jaw is clenched as she kisses her way down, skimming over his chin so she could capture his mouth in another kiss.

“Josie.” He sounds tortured. “Unless you don’t plan on sleeping tonight, you gotta.” _Oh_ , she thinks, shifting in her position, feeling exactly what he was referring to. _Oooh_.

She contemplates it, and she isn’t sure where she finds the strength to pull away from.

Relief wars with frustration on his face and she thinks that maybe he wouldn’t have objected all that much if she chose the other option he gave her. She leans forward and steals a kiss because she can, Josie resting her forehead on his. They steady their breathing, the pair cherishing the seconds they had. She focusses on him, on the sound of his exhales the only thing she could hear over her beating heart, on the way it blows against her, the hot air against her skin giving her goosebumps. She focusses on the feather light touch of his hands up and down her sides, the movements slow and almost absentminded.

He tilts his head up, nudging her nose with his own. She didn’t realise she had closed her eyes until then, Josie flicking them open, catching his gaze. And how can she resist another kiss, soft and languid and she loses herself in him once more. It takes a few minutes before they separate, Sweet Pea clearing his throat before asking what was on his mind. “Your ma gonna care if you stay the night?” There is a hint of hesitation in his tone - she had yet to stay the night before, not intentionally, not in his bed. There was no reason for them to start now.

Josie shrugs, making herself more comfortable in his lap, twirling the hair near his nape around her finger. “Don’t care.” At the light pinch on her side she grumbles, Josie slipping out of the bed, picking up his shirt on the way. She slips it on as she searches for her bag, a quick text to Kevin to cover for her before she returns to him. He’s watching her intensely, eyes dark as he drinks in her every moment. Josie doesn’t mean to stop at the foot of his bed, but she knew that the moment she got in the bed she would lose this, the way he looked at her, the awe and wonder Sweet Pea never thought to hide when he watches her. The break was almost over, their relationship was almost over. _That_ would almost be over.

She wasn’t sure how she could go back to before.

Josie does stupid poses and he cracks a smile at her, she crawls over the bed into his awaiting arms. A content sigh leaves her as she curls into his side, head just underneath his chin, legs intertwined with each other. She fits there so perfectly she wonders if he were designed just for her, to hold her, to care for her, to love her. Like she loved him.

She may not be able to say the words just yet, but she can trace them against his skin, over his heart.

And for him, for her, it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> there needs to be more fics for them, i couldn't resist.
> 
> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://simone-garnett.tumblr.com) :)


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